


The Dark One's Bride

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Dark One Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11926239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Before she was born and against her wishes, Belle's mother, Colette, bartered her away to the Dark One.  On her eighteenth birthday he will come for her and make her his bride, so Belle decides to run away.  However, she learns you can't thwart fate, and some things are simply destined to happen.My contribution to the monthly Rumbelling "Runaway Bride" prompt.





	The Dark One's Bride

The Dark One's Bride

 

A/AN: Here's my contribution to the monthly rumbelling prompt: Runaway Bride

 

When darkness fell, Colette crept out of the castle and into the vast expanse of foliage. She made her way into a deep clearing with an oil lamp as her only source of light. She placed the book down in the middle of a bed of moss. The tome was about how to summon mystical creatures, and she was about to summon the most deadly of them all. 

“Dark One, I summon thee!” she spoke aloud in a quaky voice. The rocks around her began to shake as the tome rose into the air. The pages began to flutter frantically, flying out of the tome at an unmeasurable speed. She gasped as the pages burnt up, turning to ash and falling to the ground. Suddenly, the ashes rose high into the air, taking the shape of a black inky figure. She blinked in confusion as the figure became more detailed, forming into an entity wearing a cloak. 

“Who dares to disturb the, Dark One?” the creature snarled, flashing its ruined teeth at her menacingly. 

“Tis I, Colette, princess of Avonlea,” the dark haired woman blurted out frighteningly. The Dark One said nothing as it circled her dangerously in quiet observance.

“It's not very often a royal calls upon me for assistance. Is the task to daunting for your court fairies, princess?” the beast teased in its high pitched voice.

“My request isn't one the fairies would comply to. The man I wish to marry is far below my station, and my father wouldn't agree to our union, because he says I must marry a prince,” she revealed, diverting her gaze away from the demon. 

“I see...You'd like me to make him a prince, so you can live happily ever after with your 'twu love'.” The beast cackled, allowing its hood to fall around its shoulders, revealing a man with glittering gold skin and deep amber orbs. Colette flinched slightly at his horrendous appearance, attempting to keep her composure.

“I will concede to your request for a price, and my price is the babe growing in your womb. When she comes of age, you'll release her to become my wife,” he grinned cynically at her. Colette felt her breath hitch in her throat from his declaration. Child? What was he talking about?

“Child?” Colette choked out, feeling her stomach tightening and her lungs refusing to inhale. 

“Yes, you're with child, princess. You shall bear a daughter. Are you willing to trade your daughter away to the dastardly Dark One, just so you can marry that pauper you love so much?” The Dark One inquired, gazing intently at the royal. 

“I have no other choice, do I? If father discovers I'm with child, then he'll kill my lover. I accept your deal,” she consented, absentmindedly touching her flat abdomen. She blindly disregarded the Dark One's price or what it would take to achieve her happy ending. 

“Very well, then,” the creature nodded, flicking his wrist, and producing a thoroughly written contract.

“Sign right on the dotted line,” The Dark One instructed, feeling quite pleased with himself as the princess of Avonlea signed away her child's freedom without a second thought.

“There, it's done,” Colette announced, signing the final letter of her name on the dotted line.

“Excellent! I'll see you in eighteen years then, dearie, and don't try to thwart me, because it won't work. I shall have your precious wee one as my very own,” he retorted darkly, rolling up the contract, and making it disappear.

“You have my word,” Colette vowed.

A crimson haze filled the forest as the creature vanished. Stars glittered brilliantly in the clear night sky as if they were oblivious to the deranged deal she'd just made with the darkest being in the history of the realm. She swallowed hard as she searched for any signs of the book but it had disappeared along with the Dark One. She turned around to head back to the castle with the heavy revelation of motherhood on her heart. She and Maurice would wed, and they'd get to be a family for a little while. She just had no idea how quickly those years would tick by. 

X

As the Dark One had prophesied, Colette gave birth to a beautiful daughter—a daughter which transformed into a lovely young woman, full of beauty and grace. However, her parents kept her under lock and key, afraid the Dark One would come to collect upon his debt much sooner than expected. However, Belle was clever, and sometimes she found a way to slip by them, unnoticed. 

Belle found joy in the days she was able to sneak off to town. It gave her a small escape from the stuffy walls of the palace. She would often steal a pair of one of the servant women's attire from off the clothesline, and wear a cloak to conceal her face—to allow her to blend in with the commoners. In reality, she didn't have a single friend she could count on. Her parents had been overly protective of her ever since she was a small child. It was peculiar how they kept her under such a tight watch. She knew they loved her, but they were suffocating her, when all she longed for was to be free. She meandered through the hustle and bustle of the square, carrying her straw basket close to her side. She pealed her ears, listening to bits of conversation between customers and venders. She relished the sweet aromas wafting through the air from the bakery and the smell of fresh cut flowers from the florist. 

She noticed a man with dark sable eyes and long unruly hair standing behind a stall with the finest thread she'd ever beheld in her life. Belle observed that the customers who passed by his stall acted as if it were invisible. She sauntered towards the peddler, wanting to get a better look at his fabrics.

When the vendor noticed her interest in his fabrics, he smiled gentlemanly at her, “What can I do for you, milady? Is there a certain color that interests you?” he inquired, and she smiled politely. 

“They're all lovely. I particularly like this golden yellow hue. It would make a beautiful gown, but I'm afraid I wouldn't have any place to wear it or anyone to sew it for me,” she supplied, averting her gaze sheepishly. 

She glanced back to the peddler with a satisfied smile gracing his lips, his sable eyes analyzing her curiously. She'd never met this man before yet when she looked into his eyes, she felt drawn to him for some unexplainable reason. “Why don't you take the fabric as a gift from me?” he insisted, thrusting the spool of golden thread into her arms. 

“Th-Thank you but that won't be necessary. My mother will see the fabric and ask where I got it. You see, I'm a very kept woman, and my parents don't ever allow me to leave our home. If they ever found out, they'd lock me in my chambers forever. I only came to town to immerse myself within the crowds, to feel a bit of normalcy for the day, but I'm afraid I must be heading back, now. Thank you again for your kindness, ” she protested, handing him back the fabric, and sprinting away from his stall, quickly.

That night, Belle tossed and turned all night long in her bed, unable to keep her mind from gravitating to the mysterious vender. The very next morning, upon awakening, she found a gorgeous, intricately sewn golden ballgown, draped across her favorite armchair—the exact same hued fabric she'd admired at the spinner's stall just yesterday. She pressed her lips together in a thin line as she fingered the delicate lace overlay, her mind buzzing with a million queries. Who was the mysterious stranger she'd met at the market that day? She wasn't certain, but she thirsted to know more.

Several times after that incident, Belle became braver, leaving the castle more frequently, hoping she'd see him again, but she never did. She'd only been a girl of fifteen at the time, but she'd never forgotten the spinner, nor the dress that had mysteriously appeared the day after.

Three more years passed, and Belle was on the verge of turning eighteen. Her parents' demeanor had changed to the day leading up to her birthday. Her mother had burst into her chambers two days prior to her birthday, her face unusually pale. 

“Belle, there's something I need to tell you,” she spoke, her voice quaking with every syllable. 

“What is it, mother? Why are you trembling so much?” Belle asked, concerned. 

“Before you were born, your father and I were forbidden to be together. He was a peasant, and I was a royal, and it simply wasn't allowed, so I made a deal with the Dark One. He raised your father's station so we could marry,” Colette remarked with pursed lips. 

“So, what did you offer him?” Belle inquired, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

“Belle, you must understand that I had no choice. Your father would've been killed and my rule desecrated if they ever found out we'd conceived a child out of wedlock,” Colette sobbed, tears spilling over her lashes. 

“Mother, just tell me what you offered him,” Belle said gently, holding her mother's hand consolingly. 

“You, he demanded you as his price. He said he would come for you on your eighteenth birthday. He plans to marry you,” she hiccupped, another sob tearing from her throat. 

Belle's blood ran cold at this realization. “You bartered me away to the most fearsome creature in all the realms? Do you have any idea what torture awaits me?” Belle thundered, grabbing her mother's collar and shaking her hard. 

“I'm sorry, but I had no choice,” Colette apologized, pushing her frightened daughter away. She hurriedly left her chamber, as swiftly as she'd came in.  
Belle stood there, grimacing at the news. It all made perfect sense now. There were never any balls or grand celebrations held in her honor—no princes vying for her hand in marriage. It was because she'd already been promised to the Dark One. 

Fear seized her chest as she hurriedly made her way to her closet. She opened it, her eyes landing on the golden ballgown, the one she'd never had a reason to wear. Belle pulled it from its hanger, holding it in front of her as she admired it in front of the looking glass. Her subconscious conjured up the memory of the spinner who'd offered her the golden fabric—the only person she'd ever felt truly connected with. She banished the image from her mind, knowing it mattered little, now. Her fate had been sealed many years ago when her mother had promised her to the Dark One. Belle put the dress away, crawling onto her bed, an ugly sob tearing from her throat. She buried her face in her pillow, overwhelmed by what was to come.

The day before her birthday, she made a hasty decision to flee the castle. She slipped on her golden ballgown, feeling within her heart that it was a talisman meant to protect her. She'd left in the dead of night, her cloak drawn tightly around her shoulders. She'd taken enough coin with her to survive, and saddled her horse for the journey ahead. 

She'd ridden through the forest all night, growing spent by early morning. She craved a place to rest her head, and that's when she spotted it—a looming castle which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Belle coaxed her stallion forward in the direction of the castle. 

The first light of dawn peeped over the mountains, bathing the skies in its ethereal spectrum. The castle had looked closer than it had appeared, and it'd taken her another couple of hours to reach it. To her surprise, the drawbridge was lowered, a welcoming omen. Her stallion trotted forwards, bringing her through the gate. Belle had dismounted her horse, tying him to a tree near some tall grass to munch on. 

Belle lifted her skirts, traipsing towards the castle. She banged the ancient brass knocker heavily upon the door—it opened effortlessly, startling her. She hesitantly entered, glancing around the foyer. Sunlight leaked through the tall church-styled glass windows. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” she called out hesitantly, glancing around the large hall. When she received no answer, she dared to walk deeper into the castle, unaware the door had silently slipped shut behind her. 

She blinked owlishly as she entered a room, a spinning wheel in the center. She padded towards it, bending down when she noticed the pile of straw sitting beside it - no - there was something glimmering beneath it. Belle reached within the pile of straw, pulling out a strand of glimmering gold thread. She ran her fingers over the fiber, spellbound by its shimmer. 

“I take it you like gold,” a familiar voice resounded from behind her. 

Belle glanced up, meeting the eyes of a man—a man she'd met in the village several years ago.

“You're that peddler from the marketplace,” Belle remarked with realization. 

“Rumpelstiltskin,” he responded, bowing nobly to her. 

“What?” Belle replied dumbfounded. 

“Rumpelstiltskin is my name,” he revealed, smiling proudly. “I see you're finally wearing the gift I made you. Gold becomes you,” he observed, raking his eyes over her soft curves.

Belle stood to her feet, eying him suspiciously. “You made this dress?”

“I certainly did. Call it an early wedding gift,” he grinned, the peach hue of his skin slowly fading into a sickly grayish gold hue. His shaggy brown hair, curling at the ends until it was a tangled disarray. His soft sable eyes transforming to a glowing amber. 

“You're-” Belle pointed her finger upwards, frightened, “the Dark One,” she managed to utter, her body trembling. 

“You're right, dearie, I am,” he replied, slowly sauntering towards her. 

Belle should have ran, bolted for the door and never looked back, but she found herself frozen with fear. Rumpelstiltskin bent down on one knee, closing his talon gently over her left hand, drawing it to his lips. The kiss was warm and gentle, sending unfamiliar heat pooling in her abdomen. 

As he rose to his feet, she glanced at him quizzically. “But, I was running away from you. My mother told me you would come for me on my eighteenth birthday and that's...”

“Today,” he reminded her, filling her with realization.

“I've walked right into your trap, haven't I?” she spoke, her heart hammering rapidly in her chest. 

“No, you were destined to come here on your eighteenth birthday,” he added, studying her porcelain features intently, making her blush. 

“But...I don't understand....” she remarked, grasping for the meaning behind his words. 

“When your mother made her deal with me ages ago, my magic begun to do its work—weaving a path for your arrival. Your visits to market were no accident, my runaway bride. Your heart was subconsciously paving its way to me. Our encounter at the marketplace was the first, and this dress did the rest. I used the gold thread I make to cast a spell over you, one that would bring you here. Part of the spell was that you wouldn't desire to wear it until our wedding day,” he dispelled, filling her with more questions. 

“So, I'm to be your prisoner, then?” she surmised, tears misting behind her eyes, and slowly cascading down her rosy cheeks. 

“No, not my prisoner, but my wife, and my equal. You'll be the lady of this castle, and I'll never touch you without your consent. In many ways I'm a monster, but I'll never take something so precious unless its freely given,” he replied, putting her mind at ease. 

“But, why would you desire me? Someone you'd never even met?” she questioned, analyzing him. 

“Because you're the one who will eventually break my curse and reunite me with my long lost son. I can see the future, and many years ago, before your birth, I had a vision of you doing both,” Rumpelstiltskin revealed.

“But, I don't know how to do any of those things,” she remarked, shaking her head dubiously. 

“The future is a puzzle, one we'll learn to piece together in time,” he revealed, entwining their fingers, brushing his thumbs over the underside of her wrists lightly.

“You're not the dreaded beast which I imagined,” she replied, her gaze softening. 

“I'm certainly very dark and dreadful, Princess, but I shall gift you with the best version of myself, which isn't much,” he mumbled.

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You're willing to give me a chance, then?” he inquired, his amber irises growing inquisitive.

“I am, but first, I'd like a proper tour of this castle if I'm to live here, and a decent cup of tea,” she requested. 

An impish giggle escaped his throat, causing her to chuckle. It was queer, yet such a whimsical sound, and one she found she rather adored. “That can certainly be arranged. Follow me,” he commanded, looping his arm through hers.

As they toured the castle, and Rumpelstiltskin gave her tidbits of history of each room—Belle found herself entertaining the thought of becoming the Dark One's wife, and it didn't seem as terrible as she'd first imagined it would be. The Dark One turned out to be pleasant company, and an excellent conversationalist. He'd lived many lifetimes, and his array of experiences were intriguing. He never bored her to tears, and he didn't condemn her for her many inquiries. Falling for him was a slow and gradual process, but the day she consented to be his wife was the happiest day of her life. The intimacy they'd cultivated through learning each others' minds only amplified itself within their marriage bed.

One morning, Princess Belle of Avonlea had attempted to outrun her fate, but instead, she'd run right into its awaiting arms, and become the wife of the Dark One. It was a fate she was grateful she hadn't thwarted, for it had been the exact adventure she'd been craving—filled with a love that defied all human logic, for who could ever love a beast? Surely only a beauty with a heart made of pure gold had suited the role. 

The End


End file.
